Barok van Zieks (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
discourtesies) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
songerein2022-12-05 12:41 am
discourtesies) wrote in songerein2022-12-05 12:41 am
Entry tags:
open ⚔️ cold
Who: A plush prosecutor & dreamwalkers
Which: Interactive dream
What: A sad Nyan Zieks in the snow...
Warnings: Huge spoilers for Great Ace Attorney 2! Like literally the last 10 minutes of the game or something.
[It's the dead of winter for the residents of a particular brick flat, a blond man lounging on a red couch next to a roaring fireplace as a pink-pigtailed girl of ten years taps away on her typewriter. He turns his attention to a box of toys in her corner of the suite, in particular a felt toy with a top hat and cape, a peculiar cross stitched over its nose.]
My dear Iris, don't you think that old doll is rather... ratty?
[The girl perks up with some curiosity, turning to where the purple cat lies. After a moment of consideration, she picks it up carefully in her gloved hands, as if with some distaste.]
Hmm... it is unpleasant-looking, isn't it? [With that declaration, she nods her head with confidence, offering it to the man.] Could you get rid of it, please, Hurley?
[Acquiescing to the girl's request, he rolls off the couch to his feet and strides over to accept it, holding it up to briefly acknowledge the toy.]
That's goodbye to Mr. Reaper, then. [With a casual, fluid motion, the man opens the window and simply tosses the doll out into the snow, closing it soon after to keep out the bitter cold.
But then—doll begins to stir, struggling to move its limbs out of the white pile and get to its feet. It can't quite make it that far, but it manages to lift its head and watch as the man and girl smile at each other before both busying themselves with the company that appears—a moustached man in a hat and slick suit first, then a man with a dark ponytail, and another man in red regalia accompanying a woman with long, curly hair—all of them pleased to be there, clearly smiling with the pair of residents even as their faces blur, indistinct.
A pathetic wheeze leaves the stuffed cat as it trembles:]
W-wait...
Which: Interactive dream
What: A sad Nyan Zieks in the snow...
Warnings: Huge spoilers for Great Ace Attorney 2! Like literally the last 10 minutes of the game or something.
[It's the dead of winter for the residents of a particular brick flat, a blond man lounging on a red couch next to a roaring fireplace as a pink-pigtailed girl of ten years taps away on her typewriter. He turns his attention to a box of toys in her corner of the suite, in particular a felt toy with a top hat and cape, a peculiar cross stitched over its nose.]
My dear Iris, don't you think that old doll is rather... ratty?
[The girl perks up with some curiosity, turning to where the purple cat lies. After a moment of consideration, she picks it up carefully in her gloved hands, as if with some distaste.]
Hmm... it is unpleasant-looking, isn't it? [With that declaration, she nods her head with confidence, offering it to the man.] Could you get rid of it, please, Hurley?
[Acquiescing to the girl's request, he rolls off the couch to his feet and strides over to accept it, holding it up to briefly acknowledge the toy.]
That's goodbye to Mr. Reaper, then. [With a casual, fluid motion, the man opens the window and simply tosses the doll out into the snow, closing it soon after to keep out the bitter cold.
But then—doll begins to stir, struggling to move its limbs out of the white pile and get to its feet. It can't quite make it that far, but it manages to lift its head and watch as the man and girl smile at each other before both busying themselves with the company that appears—a moustached man in a hat and slick suit first, then a man with a dark ponytail, and another man in red regalia accompanying a woman with long, curly hair—all of them pleased to be there, clearly smiling with the pair of residents even as their faces blur, indistinct.
A pathetic wheeze leaves the stuffed cat as it trembles:]
W-wait...
no subject
I hate secrets. But...
[ She's realizing for the first time how much she can relate to him. Even before all that, Kazuma never told her of his true intentions in Great Britain. Someone she saw as a brother figure, keeping dark secrets about something sinister, it should make her skin crawl to know he was a part of it. ]
Perhaps... Perhaps he didn't know how.
[ Was that an excuse...? She can't speak for Klint. ]
Perhaps he did not want to tarnish your image of him so completely.
no subject
And in so doing... he cut away my own flesh and blood.
[His voice is a whisper, but there's more than simple defeat in him; simmering beneath for so long but now coming to the surface is an undeniable anger. It first manifests as a hardness to his tone, a stiffness to his shoulders. He shakes his head.]
I can see now my own brother did not trust me. Did not think I would do what was right and still love him despite everything—never gave me the chance to prove that I could. The others only made certain that the damage was complete, maintaining the bars that kept me chained to my miserable solitude.
[Van Zieks remembers the dream where he was shackled to a false memory. However it was brought on, the violence within was merely a reflection of the harm those lies had caused—through others and himself. He will never deny his own role, his own faults, but for not one of them to reach out... Genshin. Lady Baskerville. Mikotoba and Sholmes.]
Did they think me a naive fool? ... A heartless demon?
no subject
She'd gotten that chance, to love unconditionally. But only because she reached for it and twisted his arm. She struggled with what that might mean for her, that she could love a murderer. Maybe she still does... but on some level, knowing that someone like Barok could feel the same brings her comfort, even if this dream isn't about her. ]
No... it is not that. And... I do not believe it was about trust, either.
[ Her voice falls, and she speaks just as softly with a surprising amount of composure, considering she feels like she is on the verge of tears. ]
He was afraid. He feared his own depravity, and his own demons that bested him. He feared that you... someone with so much love and admiration for him, would not be able to look past it. Or perhaps... he simply did not want to put you in that position to begin with.
Either way, he died with regret for that decision. He asked for your forgiveness, even if he felt you would never understand.
no subject
And if I cannot forgive him? Or any of them?
[That's the ironic part—because he can understand Klint's motivations, having watched his brother so closely for all his life. His brother had become obsessed with his own sense of justice at the expense of all else, and it spelled his doom. But he was far from the only one affected by the act.]
Would that make me deserving of the past decade, removed from the truth of my family?
[Is the regret of the dead enough? Do those who've yet to pass feel any for their part?]
no subject
No... [ After being rendered speechless for a moment, she speaks, ] No, of course not. Nobody deserved what Mael Stronghart put you through.
[ The Asogis. The van Zieks. Daley Vigil. Tobias Gregson. How many lives, ruined, taken? ]
You are all victims.
no subject
He wonders if he'll ever find that sort of acknowledgement outside these few companions, once the truth reaches the public—or if he'll be vilified once again as a new type of scapegoat. In truth, he'd almost rather disappear.
He allows himself another moment of weakness; the stitched scar across his nose meets the shoulder of the companion trying so hard to keep him upright.]
no subject
...and eventually, her back reaches the floor. There's a squeaking noise, though she can't tell whether it was from something inside one of them, or whether she'd involuntarily made the sound herself. Before they can find out, she can feel a foot kick against her back.
It's about time they caught the attention of some passersby, she supposes. ]
Hmm? Hey, how'd you get here? [ For some reason, Susato feels the urge to stay completely still
this is a toy story au. ] They yours, Windibank?no subject
The purveyor of the pawn shop doesn't seem to recognize the dolls, but dismissively remarks that they must have fallen off a shelf while he was attending to his books. Perhaps the customer would be so kind as to place them back?]
no subject
[ The gentleman speaks dismissively, though he has picked up both dolls has requested to take a closer look at them, whether he means to or not. He stares at them for a moment, this lonely cat and rabbit, then shrugs as as she places them on the highest shelf he can reach. ]
Anyway.
[ He saunters towards the counter... Susato stares, noting how they have quite a vantage point of the store from here.
...Then after a moment, when the gentleman are out of earshot, Susato turns to nyan Zieks. ]
Are you alright?
no subject
[For a few moments, it seems as if Barok isn't going to respond, as if he might be overly cautious about the two people in the shop spotting them. The fact that his ears turn backwards after her question and remain that way may indicate the true reason, however.]
... Pray forgive the discourtesy of burdening you with such unnecessary [
feelings—wait wrong prosecutor] things...no subject
Eventually she gives up the idea completely. They won't be looking up, she decides, though why she knows that, she doesn't know. Either way, she shakes her head. ]
Your feelings aren't unnecessary, but they can be heavy and burdensome when you are unable to trust anyone with them.
[ Did he mean to? Did he regret it? Perhaps... but hopefully in doing so, he felt a little less alone. ]
...Thank you, for doing so with me.
no subject
But the idea that she would thank him for expressing those things is just absurd. His low voice is particularly unsteady.]
You deserve far better.
[Better than him, better than this, drenched in snow and dirt and hoping for someone to find her.]
1/2
[ Her voice is as small and sympathetic as they've become. Soft and light. She rather thinks she has made this abundantly clear already, but she will say it again anyway, as it bears repeating. ]
So do you.
no subject
She smiles, though even in her current form, it is a sad, nostalgic smile. ]
Besides... Don't you remember?
no subject
He fixes an eye on her, though he doesn't quite turn her way.]
... What?
[What is he supposed to be remembering?]
no subject
[ Her tone is soft-spoken, and she watches as the man in question speaks animatedly, then moves to fetch something from the back. Using that door... The very door carrying the stark reminder that she once broke the law.
This is... just a dream. ]
no subject
The pawnbroker continues to tend to his shop with no change. It's a world caught in the past, unaffected by reality.]
As is my brother and his wife... and Genshin Asogi.
[He... knew that, already, in a deeper sense. It probably wouldn't have mattered if someone had pointed that out at the very start.]
Regardless, they've left their mark on the world. On us.
no subject
Until he feels like he belongs. ]
We must live on for them.
[ That's the obvious answer, isn't it? ]
I know that neither of us are doing what we ever expected to be doing. We have carved a new destiny in a new world that was unexpectedly thrust upon us. ...But I have to believe that we still carry a little piece of them in all that we do, and that one day, we will both wake, ready to make our world a better place.
We will leave our own mark on the world, and Lord van Zieks...
[ She turns to look at him then, admiring the scar on his face that still persists, even in this form. ]
They will be proud.
no subject
Perhaps Susato feels that way, and has every right to feel that way. There are certainly those whose legacies are worthwhile to preserve, who were taken from this world far too early for no fault of their own. But for Barok, the memories of those past just as easily drag him back into that mire as they lift him out of it. Every day, their impact changes.
He shakes his head.]
... We must not forget to live on for ourselves.
[Whether they would be proud is something he's struggled with for so long. The real question is—can they be proud of themselves, for their own sake?
He supposes they'll find out that much, eventually.]
no subject
She has grown up, living subserviently, always for the sake of someone else, that sometimes she forgets. As Reverein has taught her, however, such reminders are useful and often needed. ]
I am still learning what that means.
[ To live, for herself. ]
Hopefully this world can teach me. Both of us.
no subject
With only a moment of hesitation, he reaches out to place a paw on her shoulder.]
I pray it is a lesson that remains with us.